"He's that way." Fuuka pointed from within Juno's globe. "Of course. He has to be the one creating these distortions.
Yu sighed. Of course. He's right in the heart of it. That would of course be how it would go. Labrys started walking toward the convergence. A twisted, checkered strip of a path appeared under her feet, lighting up, like piano tones. She had been silent since they had entered the TV world, charging ahead defiantly with shoulders back-defiant of what, exactly, Yu did not know, but it was exaggerated confidence
"You comin'?"
Labrys had stopped. Yu pushed his now-useless glasses up and refreshed his grip on his sword. Juno faded, and Fuuka walked next to his elbow.
The path continued forming as Labrys walked. Staring at her shoulders, she seemed to be walking straight ahead, and the space rotating around her, warping the path, but when he looked away, he jolted from vertigo, reeled, and almost passed out from his blood dropping into his legs. Fuuka caught him as he stumbled.
"Are you all right?"
He waved her off and straightened. His ankles gave a little as he started walking, but he exhaled hard and kept his eyes on Labrys's back. Fuuka moved a half step in front of him and looked at him with concern. In the brief second he looked over at her, the back of his skull dropped out again, and he had to stop and steady. Fuuka frowned.
"Narukami-san?"
"I'm fine," he gasped, automatically. "How are you not getting dizzy?"
"Juno is keeping me oriented."
They started walking again. Yu swallowed and exhaled, slowly.
"Labrys? What about her?"
"I don't know." Fuuka touched her temple and stared at Labrys. "It seems like she's actually creating some of this twisted space herself. Maybe that's why she's not stumbling."
Yu nodded. Time collapsed on itself, collected in the cracks of Yu's skull and resonated with the vortex of black-shot clotting blood. The light finally started growing closer. Yu was sure it had been fingertip-sized a few minutes ago. The vortex spun around them, at this closeness seeming like some sort of rotting flesh, visceral and severed. Labrys stepped over the threshold into the light, which flared as she entered. Yu had to cover his eyes with his forearm.
The sky was close, now, compressed and low-ceilinged such that proportions were distorted grotesque. This node was an abandoned amusement park, a forest of rusted and collapsed rides stark black and spindly scraping a red sky. He took a step forward, crushing rusted coils of razor wire. The nearest contraption was covered in chipped primary-colored paint. The base of the large handle off one side was painted a whimsical spiral, black and white behind a red handle. It cranked a network of gears in the center of the bed, currently standing upright, and Yu realized the bed was split and hinged in the center to allow vertical expansion. Ah, yes, there were the manacles in each of the four corners, rust-jagged and splashed with bright blood.
Fuuka gasped, and Yu motioned for her to get behind him. He steadied himself and gripped his sword with both hands. Labrys was still marching forward; facing straight ahead.
"Labrys-chan!" Fuuka's voice squeaked. "Get back here!"
"Come on."
Yu shook out his shoulders, took a deep breath, and started walking. Fuuka padded behind him; when he glanced back, she was drawn into herself, wincing at every contraption they passed and jumping every time he stepped on a twig or more rusted wire. The light had a sunset cast, though there was no visible sun, orange and gold up dead grass stalks persisting through the dirt. He saw blood coagulated on a rusted thresher blade, connected to something that looked like a mantis hunched over a manacled bed, and tasted copper against the roof of his mouth, in the back of his throat.
Healing. He itched between his shoulderblades to reach out and heal, take away any miasma of death and rot left on the torture devices. A presence superimposed over his body, rooted in his chest. From the pool of his subconscious he had formed a Persona harboring deep healing powers, but able to defend and fight. The name formed on his tongue.
Ishtar. Are you there?
He made a small adjustment in the back of his head to bring out the aspects of himself that were matronly, powerful, but unfazed by the surroundings. The role he would play settled into the bones of his back, like a cloak, and he felt the ghost of horns curling out of his crown. Ishtar was there, wired through the back of his neck and into his consciousness. He had become hybrid.
Goddesses do not hunch about. He straightened his back and dropped his sword to his side, clenched the other fist, and brought his head up. The contraptions held far less horror, now. This was merciful compared to tortures the Babylonians had devised, and rather uncreative.
Fuuka scurried mouse-like behind him as he lengthened his strides over broken ground. The distances warped as they were, Labrys not far ahead was a stark shadow against red; she and her axe merged with the split bones of the abandoned carnival scraping at the sky. They passed a rotting shooting gallery where the dented tin targets were various figures of Kuma, gleeful, contented, coy, all grotesquely happy and scratched. Disemboweled, beheaded, slashed Kuma dolls hung from the rafters on nooses, blooming white stuffing for guts and viscera.
Through the bones of his ears, up from the base of his neck, he started to hear a calliope-maybe an accordion-playing a waltz, a prototypical, lurching carnival melody that brought to mind the grotesque cheer of a clown, and the vertigo of spinning rides, of crowds and burned sugar and heat and dust. They were climbing through the lateral spokes of a fallen Ferris wheel when Labrys stopped. Yu instinctively halted and held his arm out to stop Fuuka.
She stared for a long time with her axe blade resting on the dirt, a black Catherine wheel shadow. Yu finally padded forward and crested a rise in the dirt path to stand next to her.
Towering above the black skeletons of broken-down rides, rusted metal bones weakly bound to a support at the peak, was a boat. One of those pirate ship rides? No-at its zenith, the pendulum shined around the razor edge of a semi-circular blade. It dropped, hard, down to the center and slowly climbed to the opposite side, seemed to suspend for a moment, and dropped back down. The rusted scaffolding creaked and settled.
A set of gears mounted at the peak lurched, and the pivot dropped, hard, and stopped a few meters from where it had been previously. He felt the screech in the roots of his teeth. The pendulum did not stop swinging.
"The blade is newer than everything else." Fuuka was barely audible behind her crooked finger. "Look, everything else is rusted and falling apart."
He had noticed that, just as she had started speaking. The blade was clean, the only clean, new fixture in the park. Labrys wordlessly shouldered her axe and started walking down the slope. Fuuka and Yu followed her.
It was considerably further away-and bigger-than it had seemed. The dust they disturbed lingered behind them for miles. More rides retrofitted to become torture devices were along the path, but the perspective was off-the distance one walked to reach them in no way matched with how big they were, and how far off they seemed. Only the pendulum kept its perspective, growing commensurably bigger as they neared, until they stopped at a concrete base twice as high as Yu's head. The creak of settling and grinding rust was maddening here, and the blade cut the air in a ferocious rush that knocked them over the first time it had passed, before they grabbed on to the stair rail. The stairs went up the base and stopped at a platform Yu crested as the machine lurched again, screeching high enough Yu almost fell to his knees to clasp his head, and the pendulum dropped another few meters. He coughed from the shower of old dust and rust particles that dropped when the scaffolding shifted.
He groaned and rubbed between his eyes.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Kuma was lashed supine to a dais at the center of the structure, such that the blade's path cut across his stomach. At its lowest point it was a few meters away from slicing him open. Fuuka gasped and instinctively stepped back, then was nudged out of the way by Labrys, who stepped onto the edge of the platform. Her face was unreadable.
"Fuuka-san," she said. "I sense Shadow activity around here. Please scan the area while I look around."
Fuuka nodded, sucking on her teeth, and as she closed her eyes Juno's snowglobe-gown encased her. She was utterly out of place, seemingly pasted on, as Juno's cool blue tones clashed with the rust-and-blood color cast over everything.
Labrys finally stopped at the dais, looking down at Kuma. Yu yelled and jumped forward and Fuuka screamed as the boat-sized blade zoomed over her shoulder and the wind caught at her hair.
"Labrys, get away from that!"
He was sure she could hear him, but she did not respond. Yu adjusted his grip on his sword and looked around for any traps.
"There are shadows around here, but they're all connected to Kuma-san somehow," said Fuuka. "It's like... they came from him, or something. It's strange. It's like he's attacking himself."
"He is."
A circle of black, boiling wounds in the concrete bubbled up around Labrys and Kuma, and Yu shifted his weight onto his back foot and raised his sword as hooded inquisitioners coalesced from the shadows. They were all wielding various handheld torture devices-lashes, Catherine wheels the size of shields, flaying knives, some other complicated devices the use of which was not immediately apparent, but they had spikes on them, usually. They all slid toward Labrys.
"They're weak to electricity!"
"I figured. Ishtar!"
Yu summoned a Lovers card that hovered over his hand, smoldering in blue fire, and clenched his fist. It shattered, and Ishtar hovered before him. He sensed the ring of shadows as magnets, anchored their movement in his mind, and pulled lightning from the sky. They sizzled, shocked by bolts that struck straight down from the ether, and disintegrated. Yu ran forward and skidded to a stop and turned, as the Shadows started re-forming from the same points. Ishtar shocked them before they could pull themselves into the plane.
"Kuma!"
Yu stopped by the dais. Kuma looked at him, upside down, forlorn. His fur was ragged and singed, torn.
"Sensei..."
The pendulum lurched, screeched, and dropped down another few meters. Yu jumped out of its way and rolled on his shoulder as it sliced through where his chest had been. It was now centimeters from Kuma's stomach. Kuma smiled sadly. He looked too exhausted to cry.
"Sensei, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have come back in here looking for me."
Yu pulled himself up and winced as the blade dropped again. The Shadows were re-forming, and Labrys was facing them, brandishing her axe.
"You talk some sense into 'im! I'll take care of this!" She lowered her visor over her eyes and refreshed her grip. "Ariadne!"
Ariadne emerged and immediately gathered the closest few shadows in her thread, snarled them together, and hurled them at the others. The blade dropped over Labrys' shoulder, and Fuuka screamed again as it clipped her sailor collar and sliced a few ice-blue hairs.
"Labrys-san!"
"I know where the damned blade is. I'm a freakin' robot, ain't I?"
She pushed off and spun her axe into the closest knot of inquisitioners, slicing through them like paper, and caught another approaching knot with the momentum from her initial swing. She certainly seemed to have this under control. Yu turned back to Kuma and struck the manacle holding his paw; his sword bounced off in a shower of sparks. He growled, tried to strike again, lower, where the chain met the cuff, to the same effect.
"Kuma, for God's sake! Can't you stop torturing yourself?"
"I'm sorry, Sensei. I really don't belong in the outside world at all, do I?"
"This isn't the time for that!"
"I've really messed up everybody's lives, haven't I?"
Yu huffed and drew Ishtar back. "Garuda!"
He braced himself as Garuda launched up with a massive downdraft, and pushed against the top of the pendulum. The bolts meters deep strained against the concrete foundation, but the structure only creaked, twisted at rusted points. Yu grunted and shifted his stance, planting, and pushed forward harder. His shoulders and back knotted, but he kept pushing. His wings were taut, strained, as they were rooted in his shoulderblades; it took considerable effort to stay aloft. The rusted metal cut into his hands. The structure shifted, squeaked, sending down a shower of dirt and rust.
" 'ey! What the hell're you doin'?"
Yu ignored Labrys and refreshed his grip. The bob lurched, rattling about its pivot, and grazed Kuma's face. He keened and strained against his bonds to look at Yu.
"Sensei, stop! You'll get hurt too!"
Labrys sliced through the final shadow and ran to the dais. She threw herself over Kuma and sheathed her axe so that the flat shielded her head. Ariadne flew to the top of the scaffold and planted her hands alongside Garuda's, straining. The structure lurched.
"Labby-chan..."
"Shut up!" Labrys held up her arm to deflect a falling scrap of iron. "This is your fault!"
"I know, Kuma-"
"No! Not that! Your self-indulgent beatin' yourself up and makin' us come get you! You think you're the only person who's made a huge mistake and hurt people?" Labrys was silent for a while. Yu's foot almost slipped, but he re-balanced and grit his teeth. "Sometimes you gotta forgive yourself, and let people hate you for a while, rather'n beat yourself up, and have people gettin' hurt for trying to save you. You're just so afraid people'r gonna hate you! This isn't how a knight acts! A knight would go an' fix what he did, you know, make it right. And face the people he hurt."
Energy diffused through Garuda, down through his exhausted muscles, and re-set them. Out of the corner of his eye Yu saw Juno glowing and holding her hands out, casting healing energy up through the iron. The energy split and ran over his body, and Labrys's, and he pushed harder. The tower was wobbling, tearing itself from its roots. It should come down soon, just-
The gears in the pivot engine started cranking, and the pivot slid down the center support beams, like an elevator, with a hideous screech. Garuda and Ariadne gave one last shove, and the structure rose on its two opposite supports, the other two ripped from the concrete. The pendulum dropped, its momentum carrying it in its arc to swing outside the falling structure, the blade scraping Labrys's axe and sending up sparks, and finally fell, hard, with the rest of the structure. Yu dropped his connection with Garuda and turned, but it was too late, and-
Kamui burst forth and shoved the side of his missile into the flat of the blade, was knocked back like debris, and the blade fell a few inches from its original target. It grazed Labrys's arm and lodged deep in the concrete edge-first along her and Kuma's flanks. The tower, momentarily held diagonal by the blade, fell completely, and tugged the pendulum with it, wrenching the blade out of the concrete and dragging it sparking on its edge for several meters until everything finally stopped. The blade dropped on its side and shattered the concrete support lengthwise.
Dust burned his throat. He coughed, shielded his eyes against the sunlight diffusing through the cloud. Fuuka ran up, coughing. Labrys had pushed herself up onto her arms and was looking around, Kuma still pinned beneath her. She stood and tugged the base of her axe; it folded back into compact wings.
"Labby-chan, I'm still afraid something's gonna fall on me. Can you-"
"Shut up!"
The fist of her chain arm smashed into the concrete by Kuma's head; Kuma keened and closed his eyes, struggling against his chains. She re-drew the chain and the forearm snapped back onto her elbow.
"I'm sorry, Labby-chan! I was just joking."
"No, y'weren't. How selfish can you get? It's like you want to act like you did something worse than you did so people feel like they have to tell yeh you didn't do something that bad, instead of confronting what you did!"
"That's not..."
"Labrys."
Yu gently pushed Labrys aside. She allowed him to do that; he couldn't budge her if she didn't want to move. Kuma was starting to cry again.
"Sensei, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt anybody! I'm really really really really-"
"I know, I know." Yu placed his hand on the top of Kuma's head. "I know you would never hurt anybody intentionally."
"I didn't know we couldn't talk about all the Persona and Shadow stuff. I still don't. I swear. Hey, Sensei, why can't we tell other people about all this?"
Yu had no answer. Finally, he licked his lips and swallowed.
"I don't know. Maybe it's because people try to take advantage of those with power. But I do know that you need to calm down. I think you're the only one who can undo these chains."
"D'you think that'll make him feel better?"
Labrys fell to her knees. She was sniffing as though she also was going to start crying, for whatever limited definition of crying she could do. Yu sighed and forced himself not to rub his forehead.
"Labrys..."
"Labby-chan! Please don't start crying too. I can't bear it." He was sniffing harder. "I'm sorry I hurt you so bad."
Labrys shook her head fiercely. "That ain't it!"
Fuuka knelt and placed her hand on Labrys's heaving shoulder. Yu sighed and knelt down to Kuma's level. The dust was clearing; the sun was glaring hotter.
"You can't keep beatin' yourself up for somethin' you did when you didn't really mean to do any wrong. Didn't you say that to me when I ended up hurtin' everybody? The only thing you can do is try to fix things best you can. That's what a real knight would do."
"Labby-chan..."
Kuma stared at her for a long time. Finally, he closed his eyes, and his manacles started to glow. The glow spread down the chains, down the rivets and flooded across the concrete support, up the fallen scaffolding. He felt the energy diffuse far down, into the bolts. The light intensified-Yu covered his eyes-and burst, raining down soft firefly-motes.
They were standing in an open field, now, of gently rolling hills and patches of wildflowers. The air was clean. Kuma opened his eyes and sat up, blinked, shook his head vigorously, and stood, stiffly, watching the motes drift down. They all were. Yu automatically held out a palm to try to catch one; they dissolved as soon as they touched skin, leaving a tingling patch. Fuuka caught one and giggled quietly, covered her mouth with her other hand.
"Labby-chan!"
Kuma ran to Labrys and tackled her legs in a massive hug. Labrys knelt down and hugged him properly. She was still sniffling.
"I promise it's gonna be okay, ya hear? I promise."
Her voice was quiet; Yu heard it in his head. Kuma looked behind him. "Sensei, pretty lady, come on! It's a bear hug!"
Yu smiled and scratched the top of his head, and he turned under his palm to face Fuuka. "Kuma, this is Yamagishi Fuuka-san. She helped us find you. She's a Persona user too."
"Ooooh, from the Shadow Operatives?" His eyes were wide. "There are so many hot babes! I really should join that."
Fuuka looked taken aback. Yu shrugged. "He really doesn't have a filter between his brain and his mouth."
She waved her hand and smiled a little. "I guessed." She offered her hand. "It's good to meet you, Kuma-san."
She took his tiny paw in her palm, and shook his stubby arm. Kuma was beaming, eyes closed, and made a small happy gurgling noise.
"Fuu-chan! I'm gonna call you Fuu-chan!"
Fuuka blined. "Fuu-chan...?"
"He's also quite familiar," said Yu. "Instantly."
Fuuka giggled again behind her hand. "Well, he's adorable."
Kuma made another contented noise. Yu rested his palm on the top of his head again.
"Can you get us back to Yosuke's TV?"
Kuma's grin quailed a little, and he opened his eyes. "I, uh, really don't want... uh..."
"Kirijo-san told me she would meet us there."
"Mitsu-chan?" Kuma's face lit up for a second, then immediately fell, and he slunk back a little. "Is she mad? She's scary, Sensei. I really don't want her to be mad."
"Let 'em be mad," said Labrys. "They'll get over it. Because they care about you."
"Kuma really doesn't like it when people are mad at him," said Kuma.
"A knight does the right thing even if it makes him uncomfortable," said Yu.
Kuma thought for a moment, then straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out, rather exaggeratedly. He started walking.
"Right! I'll show you the way! Back to Yosuke-kun's house!"
Fuuka leaned in to whisper in Yu's ear. "Is he... squeaking?"
"Yes. He does that. Come on."
"We originally wanted to wait a while for this, or at least until you had tried to make a move yourselves looking for the hijacker, but our hand has been forced."
"What-" Yosuke laughed nervously. "What are you-talking about? We weren't-"
"Don't." Mitsuru arched her eyebrows. "Did you honestly think we thought you would stand back and let us take care of things?"
"Uh..."
"I can see you all will get involved regardless of what we do to protect you. But we've talked a little, and I think I've forgotten how mature and able to handle things we were when we were your age. I think when you reach a certain age, you don't change as much over time, but you're used to that rate of change from being a child, and you falsely attribute that regression to people and assume they must not be nearly as mature as you were."
"...what?" said Kanji.
The door slid open, and Yosuke's mother appeared to refresh their teapot and other general seeing-to adjustments. She was unusually chipper. Chie was still staring at the door when she closed it behind her. Why on earth is she so happy all of a sudden?
Yukiko poured her more tea out of the corner of her eye, and she nodded thanks. Kirijo-san was seated in perfect seiza at the end of the table. Chie had not seen her adjust at all. She poured tea with ceremonial grace, but handed back cups informally. When Mitsuru did it, the transition didn't seem jarring.
"I'll get to the point." Mitsuru took a long drink of her tea, held the cup under her nose for a moment, and set it back on its saucer. "We want you to join the Shadow Operatives."
The table was silent for a moment. Chie looked at Yukiko, who seemed mildly surprised-much as she was. This wasn't unexpected. Kanji and Yosuke looked shocked. Naoto looked bored. Mitsuru took another long drink of her tea.
"This probably isn't much a shock to you, even if you weren't expecting it so soon. This, however, might be. We want to keep everybody close. We can offer you security and shield you from some of the attention you attracted on that lovely website. Kujikawa Rise would benefit most from this, but we still want to consolidate Persona-users. We want you all to transfer to Gekkoukan High School on Tatsumi Port Island."
Silence. Chie automatically looked at Yukiko, who looked as shocked as she felt. Naoto seemed quite pleased with herself. Yosuke's mouth was hanging open. Kanji finally cleared his throat.
"You mean, like... we'd have to move?"
"Yes, Tatsumi-kun, that's implied." She seemed amused. "We will take care of your accommodations. You will stay in the dormitory in which I resided as a student. We leave this weekend."
"This weekend?" said Yukiko. "It's Friday."
"Yes, indeed."
"So, like... tomorrow?" said Chie.
"Or Sunday. I know you'll need time to get your affairs in order."
Now the shock was settling in. Yukiko automatically refilled Mitsuru's tea cup when she set it down, empty. Chie stared down at her fists.
"You're acting like we already agreed to go," she finally said. "You can't just assume that! We get to choose where we live!"
"Hm." Mitsuru smiled into her tea. "I concede, that is true. But you will come. I know you will."
"No, you don't!"
"That's a very arrogant assumption," said Yukiko. She was beginning to smolder. "You can't just plan our lives like that!"
"But I'm not wrong, am I?"
There was no response. Chie stared down at her white-knuckled fists. She was shaking. But Mitsuru was right. God damn it, she was right.
"That's..." Yosuke finally said. Mitsuru arched her eyebrows at him, and he mumbled something into his tea. "Well..."
"I have no intention of patronizing you. I apologize if that was the impression you received. However, I do remember your obvious emotional investment in this case, thinly-veiled though it was. And you did take the initiative in the murder case last year, so I assumed you would have the same attitude to this."
"What about Yu?"
"I already discussed this with Narukami-kun. He said he will come. We've made contact with Kujikawa-kun's representatives, but they're reluctant to let her go."
"What are you telling them?" Yukiko was refilling Mitsuru's cup. "That she's going to go fight demons for a while?"
"If anything good came of this public relations debacle, it has given us a more credible cover for requesting her transfer. We are contacting her as a government agency invested in her safety and privacy."
"How the hell are we going to get our parents to agree to this?" said Yosuke. "Don't they have to sign something, or something?"
"You leave that to us."
"I don't..." Kanji scratched the back of his neck. "...I'm not sure I can leave Ma alone on such short notice. She's got to run the shop all alone, since Dad died."
"I have obligations to the Amagi Inn."
"What obligations?" said Mitsuru. Yukiko blinked, taken aback.
"Well, you know. I'm training to be the next manager."
"But what function, specifically, can they not fulfill without you for a while?"
Yukiko huffed and looked down at the table, brows furrowed. "I... don't know. I just feel I should be there."
"Well, talk it over with your Inn. Our representatives must have already stopped by to speak with your parents. We can provide for your lost labor and pay the salary for help. For your mother as well, Tatsumi-kun."
"Yeah, but that's..." Kanji's hand had threaded up the back of his head. "Not the same, ya know?"
"Have you realized that if you stay here, the media will hound your families as an extension of hounding you?"
Everybody stared at Naoto. She had been watching the exchange silently with her hands in her pockets, leaning against the wall.
"We've become a liability at the moment. That was the original premise from which this was devised. It will be easier for everybody if we go for a while."
There was a distant noise, like small suction cups being pulled up repeatedly. It was growing closer. Mitsuru set her teacup down and refilled Kanji's cup.
"It seems the expedition group is back."
The door slid open as she set the teapot back on its burner. Yu was in front, wearing his new uniform. Labrys' axe-wings were visible behind him; a small thrill uncurled in her stomach upon seeing both of them. They stepped into the room, Kuma in bear-form trying to hide behind Yu. This was stupid because he was at least twice as wide as his shield, and noisy. Labrys grabbed his paw and pulled him out into the open. He stared at his feet, shuffled. Squeak squeak.
Everybody stared at Kuma for a few moments. He clasped his paws behind his back and kicked at the floor, still staring down. He glanced up, on the verge of tears, and glanced back down.
"Kuma-san." Mitsuru's voice was cordial. "I'm glad you could join us. Please, sit down."
He took a deep breath and stood up straight, puffing his chest out, and exhaled. He was holding his shoulders back as far as he could, staring above their heads.
"I acknowledge any punishment you want to put on me for not realizing people would be mean with knowing about you guys. I did not realize Mayonaka TV, or Personas, or Bear-sonas, or anything, was supposed to be secret. I'm sorry I ruined everything."
He pronounced every syllable deliberately, putting odd emphasis on some. Yu placed his hand on top of his head.
"He's been open with people about his origins since he arrived here. They just misinterpreted him, but I don't think he really understood that they did. It set a precedent."
"Wha-" Yosuke stuttered. "I've been telling you to knock that off since you got here!"
"I thought you meant that I was talking too much and making customers uncomfortable. That's what the other shift manager said."
"That too, but..."
Yosuke sighed and rubbed the back of his head. Finally, he said, "I'm glad you got back here all right."
"If I may ask, where did you get those bathhouse photographs?"
Naoto glowered at him from under her cap. Kuma scratched the back of his head and looked away, pursing his lips. He shifted nervously.
"Oh, Nao-chan... hi."
"That isn't an answer."
"From... the bathhouse?"
"What do we need to do to get ready to leave?"
Everybody looked at Yu. He had seated himself at the opposite head of the table, forearm resting on his raised knee. Kuma was transparently relieved.
"The Kirijo Group will transport your personal effects to the dormitory. Bring what you need to fight. Uniforms will be provided when you arrive. Your rooms will be fully furnished and linens provided. You are excused from school tomorrow to pack. We will arrange for your school records to be transferred. Tatsumi Port Island is a more temperate climate than here, but it can still get rather cold in the winter, especially at night. Summer is a little more tolerable because of the ocean breeze."
Mitsuru looked around. Chie felt she should be asking questions, but none congealed immediately. Nobody said anything. Mitsuru stood.
"You will find moving boxes outside your homes tomorrow morning. They will be picked up Sunday morning."
May 12, 2012 (Saturday)
Light rain / overcast
Somebody rang the bell at the front of the store.
Kanji's stomach dropped, and he half-scrambled to his door, hesitated, and peeked down the stairs. Pulled back. No, if that was her, he couldn't look like he'd been waiting. But he couldn't look like he was avoiding her, either. That would be too obvious. He tried to pretend it was any other customer ringing the bell, and conceiving of how he would handle that, but his brain was fried.
"Oh, Naoto-kun."
That was Ma. Kanji took a deep breath and slid back into his room, hit a box with the back of his heel. He had to come out. She'd know that he'd heard the bell. He couldn't wait too long. Or look too eager. Was that looking too eager?
"Kanji-kun!"
"Yeah, all right."
He ran his fingers through his hair and went down the stairs. Naoto was staring ahead at his mom with her head tilted forward so her hair was over her eyes. She glanced at him. She was carrying a cloth shopping bag, hands clasped behind her back, and looked oddly hunched trying to stand up straight and lower her head. She suddenly jerked her head up and stared at Kanji. Kanji clasped his hands behind his back so hard they shook and forced himself not to look away. He grinned, he hoped convincingly, but he felt like he was just barring his teeth.
"Hey."
His voice was lighter than he had anticipated. Naoto touched the brim of her hat and nodded. The smirk did not reach her eyes. The blood rushed from his head. Her eyes were distant. They were as distant as they had been when she had just joined the Investigation Team. Several months of slow unfurling had snapped back shut.
"I'll let you two talk."
He had forgotten Ma was there. She slipped past the shop curtain, and there they were, alone. Silent for a few moments. Kanji finally clicked his tongue.
"Do you, uh, want to come up and, uh, hang out, or something...?"
Naoto hesitated. "...sure."
He couldn't feel too embarrassed about the state of his room, given that he was trying to cram stuff into boxes at the last minute. He shoved stuff off his bed so she could sit down.
"Thank you for lending these to me."
"Oh, uh, no problem."
He took the small stack of manga Naoto handed him. She wadded up the bag she'd carried them in and twisted it a little, nervously. She stopped, smoothed the bag out, and folded it.
"Are you taking all of your books and stuff?"
"No. All that stuff's really heavy. Takes up a lot of space. I mean, if I was movin' somewhere permanently, I would, but for like a year or something, I don't know..."
Naoto nodded. He swallowed and turned to re-shelve the volumes, taking far longer than necessary to busy his hands.
"So, uh, what'd you think of these?"
"Hm." Naoto seemed to relax a little. "I certainly can see why Ribon no Kishi was extremely influential for its time, but Tezuka's conception of gender is problematic. I could give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it was tongue-in-cheek, but I can't be sure. His readers might not get it, anyway, but people not understanding satire isn't a reason to dumb it down, is it?"
"Yeah. It's, uh... yeah, I know what you mean."
He didn't, and that made him feel worse.
"It's very gender essentialist. You know. It assumes the definition of "male" includes set traits, like bravery and dexterity and autonomy, and "female" is by definition flighty and sweet and weak. Or visa versa. Like courage is "male" and weakness is "female", ipso facto."
"Oh! Yeah, I know what you mean."
"It's very binary. Or modular."
"Binary, like... uh, you mean, you're either totally a guy or totally a girl, and there really isn't any in-between, that sort of thing?"
"Yes, exactly." She smiled a little, a genuine smile, and his stomach unknotted a little. "Sapphire's androgyny is conceptualized as possessing a male and female heart, and it's... how would you say it...there's no fusion there. Like, if you take away the 'male' parts, she is by definition female. You're still thinking entirely in terms of 'male' and 'female'. Traits can't be both. When she has her male heart taken away, as part of that, her courage and strength are taken. Because those are seen as "male". That sort of thing."
"Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. 's bullshit."
He did actually know what she meant. Some of the tension had melted away, but his nerves were still raw with nervous energy. He started shifting things about in a box even though they didn't need reorganizing.
"You all packed yet?"
Naoto huffed. "Not even remotely. But I already only have with me the bare essentials, so I don't have to sort through things and make decisions. I need to find a place to leave perishable food."
"Your family, like, okay with all this?"
"Yes. What about your mother?"
"I think she's happy I got selected for any special anything. I don't really know what Kirijo told her. Can't be that I'm a genius or any shit like that. It's really sudden, though, like, I think that's making her suspicious. But she's lettin' me go, so, you know, that's good. I've always been such a complete fuck-up and an embarrassment to her; must be nice to be proud of me for once."
"You are not a complete fuck-up and an embarrassment."
Kanji looked up. Naoto stared levelly back for a few moments, then lowered her head to cough.
"What are you going to do about your stock of dolls?"
"I dunno. I guess Ma can keep them up for sale, or something. I can ship more back. I'm bringin' all that crap, fabric and stuff."
Naoto nodded. They were silent for a while. Kanji's stomach reeled; the pit was connected to her, always aware of where she was. She finally stood and smoothed her navy jacket, tugged it straight around the gold buttons.
"I suppose I should continue packing."
Kanji nodded. That pit was rotting, ghosted over his tongue.
"Yeah. I, uh, guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
Naoto nodded and touched the brim of her hat, turned. Kanji turned back to the stacks of folded clothes he was putting in a box. She had not left. He looked back up; she was standing in the doorway, hands in pockets. The tension in her shoulders resonated in his stomach.
"Do you, uh..." She looked over her shoulder. She wasn't making eye contact. "...do you want to get lunch, or something?"
That pit split, unfurled and fluttered up as hope. Naoto scratched the back of her neck and looked down, away. Her cheeks flushed.
"I mean, you know, we won't be back here for a while. And um... we could go to Aiya. Or something."
He was trying to put words together. Naoto cleared her throat and stepped out of the doorway.
"Yeah, I guess I'll se-"
"Yes!"
Naoto stopped. Kanji stumbled to the door, almost tripping over a box, and stopped behind her. She turned and looked up. From here, he could smell cologne, something light from the sweat on the back of her neck that rolled across the surface of his tongue.
She smiled. It was a genuine smile. She closed her eyes when she smiled, often, but this one reached them anyway. His face was splitting. He was trying to not grin too much, but the end result was that he was grinning and twitching.
"That sounds-that sounds great."
The alleyway seemed clear. Inoue beckoned leaning half-out the door, and Rise drew her hood up and followed. He had originally wanted an entire entourage to buffer, but Rise's makeup artist pointed out-correctly-that this would draw far too much attention. She had been applying base and shadow-tones to slightly change the shape of Rise's face. It was subtle, but in that naturality, striking. The artist had found a simple black wig. The prop department had some thin pads you could bind to your thighs, hips, waist, whatever, to make you look pudgier, and beneath old jeans and a loose hoodie this looked natural.
The alleyway had been secured, the door selected because it was invisible from the street. Inoue grabbed her hand and they walked against the wall toward the front of the building. He was dressed casually, too, clearly posing as a boyfriend, and had found a path that would have them merge into the crowd of people waiting at the front doors. There was a knot of employees along that flank that could hide their entry.
"Kujikawa Rise."
Inoue automatically pulled her behind him as he turned. A man was standing in the center of the alley with his hands in his pockets. Rise's stomach rolled. She had been staring at Inoue's back; she was sure before that she had seen no one in the alley. He started walking forward.
"Who the hell are you?" Inoue's hand hovered toward the radio holstered at his lower back. "How did you get in here?"
The man lowered his head slightly, and Rise felt a shock, something pass through her chest running along her bones and coming out her spine. It had come through Inoue. He had drawn his radio and was holding down the talk button, but there was no response. He glared at it and smacked it with the flat of his hand. The green light had gone out. The man kept walking forward, leisurely, and Inoue dropped the radio and moved in front of Rise.
"I just want an autograph."
The man stopped less than an arm's length away. Inoue had to crane his neck to look up at him. He was shaking, but he did not move. His hand twisted on Rise's wrist, and he shifted his weight in preparation to run.
Kanzeon reached up through her nerves and placed her hand on her shoulder. She seemed to be telling Rise to wait. The energy coming off this man was incredible.
"Wait."
Rise placed her hand on Inoue's shoulder. She gently pushed him aside and stepped up to the man, who seemed amused by this. The man's eyes were sharp, garnet. Every nerve in her body hummed; the energy was almost overwhelming. It pounded at the roots of her eyes. But Kanzeon kept telling her to hold.
The man reached into his blazer. Rise's stomach dropped out and Inoue yelled, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her out of the way, but the man withdrew a yellowed, tri-folded parchment. She nudged Inoue aside and took it. It was sealed in deep blue wax; the sigil was something she felt she should recognize; the knowledge came from some primordial space in her gut, but her head was not grasping it. It was a sun, divided down the middle-no, a face. The punches that were its eyes were hollow wells; she could not look away. The rim of one was rubbed, showing a splinter of lighter-blue wax.
"Open it," said the man.
Rise slid her finger under the seal, which separated cleanly. The paper crackled when she unfolded it. The text was immaculate calligraphic script.
I, _, give my word that I will take full responsibility for my actions and decisions.
The man stared at her for a long time.
"Inoue." Rise did not take her eyes off the man's. "I need a pen."
"Rise-"
"Just do it."
Inoue scrambled through his inner pocket and brought out her clutch, which she often talked him into carrying for her. She fished out a pink, glittery pen stamped with strawberries and put the cap on the end. She stopped just as the tip touched the paper. The man's expression had not changed.
She started writing a fraction of a second before she consciously made her decision. In the space below the message she carefully wrote out "Kujikawa Rise" in bright pink script. As she lifted her pen from the paper, her name scrawled itself in the space left in the message, the same handwriting as the words around it.
The words lit up as a blinding-hot wire, and she fell out of reality.